Never Forget
by Juntaine
Summary: ME3 ending, but a bit different and, perhaps, a bit more...realistic? It's full of spoilers, obviously, so read at your own risk. The ending retold and the personal response of the one Shepard affected the most. FemShep/Garrus of course!
1. The Battle

**My take on the ME3 ending. Part 1 is a combination of what I expected to happen with what did happen. It provides more closure, in my mind. Part 2 is a personal response and a sort of prologue. It's written completely differently and I'm quite proud of it.**

**I am sort of on the fence about the ending, but this was started before I'd even played ME3.**

**Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!**

* * *

The Citadel was quiet, at least it was where Shepard was sitting. The large open areas forced air movement, creating a breeze that swept across her sweaty and bloodied face. She'd always liked the Citadel. Its cool, crisp, and clean exterior; its dark, greasy underbelly. But the noise was gone; only the shifting of distant parts of the station could be heard.

The platform she was on was completely devoid of trees and other accoutrements the various species inhabiting the giant space station had introduced. Likely the traitorous Keepers had removed them to make way for far more sinister purposes. At the moment, however, the Keepers were absent; Shepard remained alone, only Anderson by her side and the corpse of the Illusive Man a few meters away, blood still leaking from where she'd shot him. The light from the sun gave everything a golden sheen. It was almost pretty. It almost hid the blood.

Anderson, the man who had been her mentor, lay where he had collapsed. "Hell of a day, huh, Shepard?" he rasped suddenly, then was overcome with a weak and wet cough.

"You could say that," she replied. It hurt to talk, but the pain was so constant now that she didn't really care anymore.

"Never thought I'd live to see the end of the Reapers. You've done good," continued Anderson. He took a slow and painful breath. "I'm proud of you, kid."

Something stuck in her throat. "Thank you, sir. It's been an honor."

"The honor...was mine. Now...go. Hackett should...be ready...soon." He slumped as his muscles gave in, and his eyes slowly closed. One breath came slowly. Then another. Then the lungs emptied and remained silent. Shepard reached out and gently touched his hand, curling his fingers around his in a gesture of gratitude and respect.

"_Shepard, this is Hackett_," said a voice from the comm.

"I'm here, Admiral," Shepard replied, gritting her teeth against the pain.

"_The Crucible is moving into position. There's nothing more we can do on our end. Where's Anderson?_"

"He's...gone, sir."

The line was silent for a moment. "_I see. He was a good man. But the rest is up to you. You've got to get that Crucible working. Hackett out_."

Shepard remained sitting, dreading the thought of moving. The control panel was only a few meters away, but the pain wracking her body made it seem a hell of a lot farther than that. She glanced down at the arm she clenched to her side. Drenched in her own blood, she knew that she wasn't leaving this station alive.

Time was crucial. Every moment wasted here meant more people dying, meant the Reapers were winning. Everything depended on her and what she did in the next few critical seconds.

Shepard forced herself to move, but was unable to summon the strength to stand. Instead she crawled, her sheer force of will pushing her forwards. Inch by inch, the control panel grew closer. Bloody handprints marked her path. The pain was excruciating, but she refused to give up. Then her fingers touched the control panel column. She paused to take a few breaths, then pushed off the floor to a sitting position. The various wounds across her body all protested and she screamed with the effort. Grabbing on to the column, every ounce of her strength went into pulling herself to her feet. Her head swam, everything was blurred by the waves of pain and dizziness. She must have lost so much blood, and every movement was agony.

Shaking her head, she looked at the control panel. Bringing up the readings for the Crucible, she saw that it had docked with the station very close to where she stood. She glanced over the power readings, and immediately realized what she had to do.

She keyed in the correct sequence to combine their power conduits and then her body gave out. She slumped to the floor, screaming out in pain again. It hurt so much she wanted to cry, but her body was exhausted. She had nothing left.

Leaning against the column, she took three long, labored breaths, trying to get the pain back to a level she could stand. When the dizziness passed, she activated the comm.

"Admiral Hackett, this is Shepard. It's all taken care of. All Reaper technology is going to be destroyed. Unfortunately, that includes the Mass Relays."

"_I see_," responded the Admiral after a long pause. "_We always knew there would be a price to the Reaper's destruction. That's going to leave a lot of people stranded, but at least they'll be alive. What about your situation, Commander?_"

Shepard took a deep, agonizing breath. "There's no time. I suggest you get back. I'm not sure what's going to happen."

Hacket didn't speak for a moment and Shepard knew that he understood. "_Acknowledged. Thank you for everything you've done, Commander. We owe you our lives. Anderson was right to pick you_."

"Good luck, Admiral. Over and out." Shepard closed her eyes. "Wait."

"_Commander?_"

"Can you patch me into someone on the surface?"

"_Of course. Who?_"

xXx

The battle on Earth was fierce and never ending. Waves upon waves of husks, marauders, banshees, and all sorts of mutated and distorted life forms threw themselves on the allied forces. Each could do massive amounts of damage and there were so many of them. It was only a matter of time before the Reaper forces overwhelmed them.

Garrus Vakarian switched between his assault rifle and his sniper rifle, the motion so smooth and practiced no time was wasted. Tali'zorah vas Normandy, his long-time quarian friend, was several meters away, popping off pistol shots and the occasional drone. Scattered around the battlefield were asari, salarians, more turians, more quarians, and humans, all fighting this last battle. The existence of their respective races hung in the balance. Each individual fought with everything they had, to keep the Reapers' attention on them. Everything rested on the Crucible. If that failed...this pile of rubble would be their grave.

Garrus's comm beeped, indicating an incoming call. He answered it, expecting news from the turian commander controlling troop movement a kilometer behind him.

"Vakarian," he said loudly, over the explosion of a grenade.

"_Garrus_."

For a split second his heart skipped a beat, just to hear her voice. Then he felt his stomach tighten. "Shepard. What's wrong? Is the Crucible not going to work?"

"_No, it's going to work. Whatever it does, will happen in the next few minutes. I need you to hang on until then_."

"It'll be tough, but I can make it. What about you?"

The line was silent.

"Shepard?"

"_I'm not going to make it_."

His breath froze in his chest. "Shepard, you can't..."

"It's okay, Garrus. I got pretty beat up getting here, anyways. It's...it's not a bad way to go. I can see Earth from here. Can't even see the fires."

The sounds of the battle faded. All he heard was the sound of his heart thumping in his chest. His fingers felt numb. A million thoughts ran through his head, but there was nothing he could do. Everything screamed that she should leave, that she should give up and come back to Earth. But he knew that she couldn't do that, and he couldn't ask her to.

"_I, um, only have a few minutes_," continued Shepard. He heard the pain in her voice. "_I wanted to tell you. You've been my friend through the worst. When everyone doubted me, you were there by my side. I've always respected you. I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep my promise_."

"Shepard...please..."

"_I know we didn't have much time together and I'm sorry I have to be the one to leave first_." She took a raspy breath that made his chest ache. "_Whatever this Crucible does, it's going to take out the Mass Relays. You won't be able to return home. But at least you'll be alive_."

"Shepard..." his voice trailed off. The gun felt heavy in his hand. He turned his head, caught Tali's gaze. He could only wordlessly shake his head. Tali's gun lowered. She knew.

"_Garrus_..." Her voice was growing weak. "_I'm not one for requests, but I need you to do something for me. Tell the story of how all the races took a stand for self-determination and freedom. Everyone is a hero today. Don't let anyone forget_."

"Shepard..." he tried again, the word coming out stronger. "I'll make sure you are remembered. Thank you for everything." A thought crossed his mind and he gave a small humorless laugh. "Maybe I'll name my kid after you."

A pained chuckle echoed through his earpiece. "_Ow, don't make me laugh, damn it_." She coughed. "_I love you, Garrus._"

"I love you, too, Shepard."

"_I'll be waiting in that bar. By the window. And I'll be buying_."

The line cut out.

xXx

Hackett watched the Crucible, attached to the wide, open arms of the Citadel like a stem to a flower. Even from the distance the Alliance Fleet sat, the change in the Crucible was clear. It began at the connector that linked it to the Citadel; a ripple of white light, like electricity. It grew and as it passed along the body of the Crucible, becoming a sphere of energy. As the center of the sphere settled on the body of the prothean device, it ceased to move and instead grew in diameter. The wave rippled through the atmosphere, passing through ship and Reaper. Hackett knew very little about the Crucible; as far as what it did, he'd left that to the scientists. Whatever it was made of, though, was geared towards destroying Reapers specifically. The hundreds that sat in Earth's atmosphere began to explode like ants under a magnifying glass. Soon the atmosphere was yellow and red with their burning bodies. He was briefly concerned for the state of the people beneath the falling behemoths, but he shook his head and remembered that the Reapers were dying and that had been their goal all along.

The wave approached the Alliance ships. Hackett watched it closely then activated the comm.

"Hackett to all allied ships. Wave incoming. Brace for impact-we have no idea what this thing'll do when it hits us."

The crew on his ship all grabbed hold of something. Hackett gripped the arms of his chair tightly.

The wave came closer.

He held his breath.


	2. The Legacy

The answer to life is cycles. Life grows, increases in complexity, gains consciousness, then begins to question its existence. Reasoning and intelligence leads to curiosity if it is indeed alone in the universe. It finds others like it and it learns. Cultures mingle. Then the Reapers come and reduce complexity to simplicity. Life begins again.

That was the cycle of things for millennia upon millennia, beyond the reaches of time. So long ago that there was no record of when it began. So thorough there was no record of it ever happening. There was no warning, just destruction. It had always been that way.

Now, the Reapers were gone, their existence wiped out from the universe. Huge catastrophic losses left entire species nearly extinct. But the Reaper threat had been destroyed. The cycle was broken. Perhaps through this act, though, the handful of space-faring races had adopted the mantle of their former oppressors. Maybe the title "Reaper" was merely that; a title worn by the currently dominant species in the universe. Maybe there were consequences far beyond the scope of their understanding. Some nuances about power and balance in the galaxy that only the immortal Reapers had known. Maybe it was too far for them to have reached, the results too complex to comprehend.

No. The devastation had been too great. The casualties numbered too high; trillions of innocent lives didn't deserve to die. Not like that. It was cruel to think otherwise. There was no way to deny it. Defeating the Reapers had preserved life in the universe, flawed and imperfect as it was.

But why…why?

Of all the people who had to die…why did it have to be Shepard?

Garrus had been there from the beginning. He had seen incredible and horrific things that would give him nightmares for the rest of his life. He'd accepted the mantle of a leader for the sake of his own people because of what he'd witnessed. Because he believed they had a chance. Because Shepard was there; because she knew what had to be done.

It wasn't fair. The pain burned so deep, all feeling was gone. His body had became a shell, a robot acting out the motions of life. His heart was now her corpse, weighing down his chest. The devastation of his people, the near destruction of and subsequent exile from his home planet hurt like hell, but the loss of her consumed him.

There were times he wished he hadn't survived, that his last moments had been with her. Even now, he couldn't deny the dark thoughts that crossed his mind. Something always held him back, kept the barrel of the gun pointed forwards rather than backwards. Perhaps it was fear or cowardice. A remaining sense of responsibility to look after his people. But most likely it was the one thing Shepard had left behind: the desire to improve the universe around him. Her duty had always been survival not just of her own species, but of all species. He couldn't leave all of this reconstruction unfinished. Not when he could contribute, help rebuild. When his skills were no longer needed, then he could find peace.

Peace without Shepard. He never thought it would be possible. It never occurred to him that she wasn't invincible, that she was as mortal as any of them. Well, it had crossed his mind, but he'd never really believed it. Anyone who met Shepard immediately knew fragility was not a word you could use to describe her. In only a few years, she'd defeated a rogue Spectre, killed several Reapers, destroyed a Collector's Base, united a fragmented galaxy, and managed to succeed against insurmountable odds more than once. She had been indestructible.

Nothing less than the collective forces of the Reapers could have defeated her.

It had been so fast. She was as she had always been, guns blazing as she plowed through her enemies. He was by her side, watching her flank. It seemed like they could have gone like that forever. They got separated, and one moment stole her from him forever. Now, the guns were silent. No enemies came rushing at them. His rifle lay silent, likely not to be used again. It was more than an absence of the noise of battle. Quiet permeated his life which was filled with meetings and menial labor as his people pulled their lives back together again, trying to find their place on this foreign planet. The silence spoke of regrets, of words that never formed. Things that could never be, no matter how he wished they could have.

He'd never told her how much she'd changed him. Or how much he really cared for her. The feelings were there, but the words had seemed so inadequate. But now, he could speak only to empty air. All the chances he'd had were gone. The regret added to the weight already carried in his chest. The weight and the pain that nothing could dull. She never knew how his entire world revolved around her. Without her guidance, he was left only with the faded memory of her. But even that small shadow of her still managed to reach him, guide him. It was so strong it kept him moving forward. He was healing the galaxy for her so that when they met in the afterlife—_if_ they met in the afterlife—he could show Shepard her legacy. Her legacy. That was all that remained. But it was a hell of a legacy. Everyone knew her name. Everyone knew that they existed because of her. Turians, asari, salarians, krogan...every species now could determine its own fate, progress beyond the boundaries the Reapers had sought to impose on them. If it had been anyone else, nothing would have remained. Because of her, life was able to thrive. To survive. No being could ask for a better tribute.

He'd been able to move on, for the most part. He'd met a turian commander from one of the ships that had been stranded when the Mass Relays had been destroyed. She wasn't Shepard, but their relationship allowed him to forget. Their children were named after their heroes, companions they'd lost during the war. People they'd left back on Palaven. His children played through the streets of a reconstructed Earth, along with the offspring of every race that had remained behind. Turian, krogan, salarian, asari, quarian, and human children played together equally, completely ignorant of the past that had divided their parents. Meanwhile the adults combined their science in a long-term attempt to reestablish contact with the rest of the galaxy. Garrus never participated; his part had already been played. He kept his attention closer to home, for that was what Earth was to him now.

His time here was limited. The end grew closer. He felt it pawing at the corner of his mind every day. Every day brought him closer to her. Then they would be reunited and gaze at the galaxy they had created. Life would go on. And when generations upon generations of survivors had at last forgotten the last whisper of her name, she would turn away and find a new adventure.

And he would be there by her side. Forever.


End file.
